SO YOU THINK YOU ARE FREE!

July 4, 2011-Monday

Definition of FREEDOM

: the quality or state of being free: as a : the absence of necessity, coercion, or constraint in choice or action b : liberation from slavery or restraint or from the power of another : independence c : the quality or state of being exempt or released usually from something onerous <freedom from care> d : ease, facility <spoke the language with freedom> e : the quality of being frank, open, or outspoken <answered with freedom> f : improper familiarity g : boldness of conception or execution h : unrestricted use <gave him the freedom of their home>

So you think you are free and/or have freedom. Let’s examine the definition above, from Webster’s Dictionary, and compare it to our lives today.

First, the quality or state of being free sounds good and one could at first blush say we, the American people, are free but before one jumps to that unrealistic conclusion let us look at the expanded meaning.

Webster says there is an absence of necessity, coercion or constraint in choice or action. Absence of necessity meaning there is nothing necessary to maintain one’s current condition. I submit that if you think this is true in your life you have never failed to file an income tax return or pay what is due and that is just for starts. So, you really are not free from necessity. And what about coercion? Our government never coerces us to do anything, right? Again, taxes, one must pay taxes or lose their home and property. One must pay a license fee to operate their car, without fear of another tax/fine, on a roadway paid for out of taxes paid by that same individual. Strike coercion from the list of things you are free from. Yes, the argument can be made that some taxes are necessary for the good of the whole and the author agrees with that statement but do go on. Constraint of action means one is free to do what one chooses but government, in most cases, prohibits one from erecting a building, wiring it, plumbing it, roofing it, remodeling it, providing water for it or doing a multitude of other things without government permission. One is constrained by building permits, another form of taxation. A thing as simple as burning trash or limbs on one’s own property is often prohibited so forget about the lack of constraints. They are there and your freedom is limited to the extent the constraints exist.

In addition, if recently enacted legislation is found to be constitutional, you may one day be required to buy a certain make and model of vehicle perhaps with an engine that the government approved. Oh, forgive me for the faux pas, you are already required to buy an engine approved by the government.

If you are fortunate enough, or perhaps unfortunate enough, to own and operate a business your freedom becomes even smaller. Depending on the size of your business you may be compelled to hire based on gender and ethnicity and if someone becomes physically unable to perform their job you may be required to spend thousands of dollars to accommodate that person so they can continue at your business. Never mind the fact that the expenditure may never be recovered from that person’s production. Or maybe you would like to open a branch in another state, one that is a right to work state, but the government tells you that you must open the branch in a union shop state or risk losing existing government contracts. Where is your freedom to operate your business?

Space is limited, I only have 160 gigs, so let us move on.

Skipping down to freedom of speech let us think about that. Surely living in the beacon of freedom as Americans do we have the right to speak our minds, right? Wrong! Say you are a seventy plus white male standing in a line at the airport and tell the folks feeling you up, in the name of homeland security, that they should be leaving you alone and checking the Semite looking guy behind you. You will be promptly pulled out of line and probably miss your flight as well as having your name added to a no fly list. If you object too strenuously you may even get a free ride to the local calaboose and as the local gendarmes like to say “You might beat the rap but you won’t beat the ride” meaning a court may free you at some distant date but only after you have spent an inordinate amount of money defending the freedom of speech guaranteed you by the constitution.

That you say is just a small chink out of our freedom of speech and one necessary to keep us safe. My question is how does the expression of ones heartfelt belief, in this case that seventy plus year old white male who doesn’t blow up or hijack airplanes, endanger our country? It is only because we have allowed political correctness to abridge our freedom of speech that we are subjected to such reproach and unlawful restraint of our right to freely express ourselves. One may talk about the great qualities of Islam or atheism in the classroom but one must never express a belief in God or Christ as that is an affront to those who don’t believe in them. According to the law of the land, as interpreted by judges, the Christians shall never be affronted by any other belief espoused in their presence.

Express your belief in open forum that only legal Caucasian Americans should be allowed to vote or hold a job and you run the risk of jail. That would not be a popular stand and not one the author would agree with but the right to freely express one’s beliefs was guaranteed by the constitution. Before we let that freedom escape us, in the belief that no one should be offended by speech, unless they happen to be white Christians we should stand up, speak out and reclaim that right. Leaders of minority groups regularly defame and abase the moral majority, in the name of political correctness, and the media and courts not only abide the attacks but often encourage them. Having recently reread the Constitution the writer was unable to find any reference to political correctness but he was able to find reference to the freedoms being discussed.

Unfortunately most of the freedoms guaranteed by the Constitution have been so eroded that the founding fathers, who pledged their all and their lives to gain those freedoms, would not recognize our country as their country.

Our founding fathers paid with their fortunes, their families and their lives that we might have the freedoms we have so carelessly let slip away. The men who fought in the Revolutionary War, War of 1812, the Alamo, the First World War and the Second World War would look in horror at what has become of freedom in America.

Today we should be celebrating freedom and remembering those who gave their lives for that freedom. Unfortunately while our soldiers died on the battlefield to keep us free we sat by, at home, and let our freedom be taken from us by our judges, elected leaders and demigods who say they represent the American public and belief.

The readers should resolve that the freedoms that have been taken from them will be regained. They should resolve to demand responsible and Constitutional government while speaking out against the ever increasing erosion of their God given and constitutionally guaranteed rights. Elected leaders who fail the constitutional test should be voted out and judges who are activists should be impeached.

Freedom isn’t free and was never won by the faint of heart or timid. Failure to speak out and act in fear of losing one’s freedom is sure to result in the loss that is feared.

We breakfasted, while outside rain fell through the cold air.

Some time was spent at the laptops before we sought the warmth of the electric blanket and bed.

We watched some of our favorite shows on GSN then switched to Oxygen when reruns began.

Onie kept us in snacks and water until it was time for supper, which we had in bed.

Onie slept at 11.

The writer checked his email and made a few notes before retiring at 12.

SCORCHER

July 5, 2011-Tuesday

Even though it was only 5:25 when Onie rose, the sun was already high in the cold, 38 degree, sky.

She made herself a cup of coffee and settled down at her computer to complete week four and try to get it posted.

When the writer rose at 7:30 he took a final look at the completed week.

Onie fixed breakfast and the couple worked the daily crosswords while they ate.

After breakfast the editor made her index for week four and posted the week. The wireless signal here is somewhat less than reliable so we won’t know for a while if the posting was successful or not. She is still trying to get the pictures for week three to post.

The air had warmed to 48 by eight thirty when she left for Zumba.

The writer sat at his laptop with a cup of hot tea, checking his email and writing. He finished the musings for the 4^th and then went to the shower to try to rid himself of the terrible feelings engendered by thinking about freedoms lost and imperiled by an American society that has become one of ease and entitlements instead of freedom and self-reliance.

The coach was opened to air as the day that had started cold had turned off quite warm.

With the wash going he stepped into the shower and tried the impossible, washing away the misdeeds he sees in society.

Later it was back to the coach to continue writing.

Onie got home from Zumba. She had stopped by Freddies and gotten some groceries. Among her purchases was another watermelon. The writer is a big watermelon fan as is the editor.

With the groceries stored the editor sat down to once again try to determine why the pictures aren’t posting to the website. She is using different software this year and the ins and outs are a little different but with some perseverance and good skills she discovered the problem, a setting, corrected it and voila, the pictures posted.

It is nice being married to a beautiful editor but it is extra nice being married to a beautiful smart editor.

Lunch, at one o’clock, was canned sockeye laced with diced jalapenos, pickled asparagus with onion and garlic and raw carrots with spinach and artichoke hummus. We agreed, eating like this we won’t live forever but we will at least die healthy.

The writer and editor headed back to the laundry to fold clothes. When the job was done the editor sat down at her laptop, she had taken it along, and deleted week three from the website and reloaded it. It seemed to load correctly this time.

Back at the coach the writer started fresh water running to fill the holding tank then went to get the honey wagon to empty the gray and black water tanks.

He was wearing shorts and a tee shirt and barefoot as the weather had gotten absolutely hot, 68, but it would get even hotter topping out at 77, a real scorcher for Sterling.

The honey wagon seems to draw guys out of their rigs like sweet flowers draw bees. As soon as the honey wagon was connected to the toad, guys started appearing saying they needed to empty their tanks too. Four rigs and two hours later we were done. It is a job where it is nice to have help.

While he was gone Onie had fished and finished filling the fresh water tank. She had more success with the water than she did with getting something out of the water.

At the coach the outdoor sensor for our atomic clock was hung under the eaves of the shed with care before the interior of the shed was rearranged to make room for the twelve cases of new jars. More of the coach basement was unpacked and the items we had brought up for Kris were put in her rig. Some of Onie’s new yard sale items were packed in a box, for transport, and put in the basement as well as the toad pad and shield which won’t be needed until we start home. Our collapsible love seat was taken out, cleaned and set up as well as the chair carriers and camp stool carrier.

We were still working when Inger came by to visit. She brought both cold and hot smoked salmon, sliced cucumber, rice crackers and Wasabi. Onie furnished wine and they sat down to visit.

The writer puttered a little more, getting a load of fire wood for later, before joining them for a visit and a snack.

Then he was off to the river with his tackle. Standing on the grate flipping he could see storm clouds over the distant mountains and hear the rumble of thunder. He wondered if rain would come to Castaway. Later he rejoined Onie and Inger. He hadn’t had to dirty his hands cleaning any fish.

Inger left and the writer and editor were discussing supper when Bert appeared. He walks most everyday for exercise. He had come down the hill for a visit and to see if we had any western movies he might borrow. We certainly do have western movies, and after a good visit he selected two John Wayne movies and headed back home.

Being as it was ten minutes to eight it was certainly time to eat.

After supper Onie turned on Fox News to get the latest on the Casey Anthony acquittal. Since the verdict came down earlier today the folks in camp were of one mind; if you want to kill someone go to Florida, act stupid, lie, party, put the body in a trash bag, dump it close to your house and look morose. It seems that everyone we talk to believes mom is a cold hearted murdered but the jury didn’t get the message. Sometimes the public gets more media information, gossip and innuendo about a crime than does a jury and perhaps that is why mom was set free but it interesting to note the jury did find she lied to law enforcement officers. Why lie if one is innocent?

The writer was busy at his laptop while Onie watched TV.

After a while she turned off the tube and went to sleep.

The writer stayed at his laptop until twelve.

A LITTLE AGENCY

July 6, 2011-Wednesday

Even though we are losing about a minute and a half of daylight each twenty four hour period there is still plenty to go round. When Onie got up at six thirty the sun was already high in the sky but the thermometer was still reading a low forty four.

She had some coffee and began work on week five.

Pawpaw stayed in bed until a little before eight when he got up and went to his laptop.

While breakfast was being cooked he took out the trash and read the paper.

Eggs, biscuits, back bacon and homemade jelly and figs graced the table along with coffee and tea. Of course crosswords from the morning paper were there too.

After breakfast showers were taken, the kitchen cleaned, Pawpaw filled his pill boxes for the next three weeks, Onie did some IRA related work and Pawpaw began work on accumulated mail and agency items.

The sun was warming the coach and like yesterday the windows were opened to let in the fresh air. Outside it was 73 and inside it was 75.

One o’clock came and Onie headed off to the gym with Kay and Inger. After the workout there will most likely be the obligatory stop at Freddies.

Tom called Becky to invite her, Jan and Bert down for supper tomorrow night before he resumed work on stories, mail and agency stuff. He was just finishing up when Onie got home at three.

She started work again on week five and he headed off to post his mail and get a propane tank filled. On the way he made a call to Continental Subaru in Anchorage and made an appointment for next Monday to have the rear wheel bearings fixed. He also talked to the daughter born first, Clair. She said she and her Gman had a great Fourth of July and in addition they had gotten ¾ of an inch of rain. As dry as it has been in Texas any day it rains is a great day.

Back home he and Onie watered her flowers and put some pansies in a little hothouse in an effort to get them to grow more quickly and bloom.

With the flowers tended to the couple went to the grate where they each slashed the water for quite some time. When it was all over they stilled smelled fresh, no fish smell.

Onie decided to do a little more work on her laptop including scanning and sending some paperwork.

The author walked up the hill to tell Becky that he and Onie needed to reschedule supper to Saturday night. He has to pick up Mike Richardson tomorrow evening at the Kenai airport. He made the commitment before they left Texas. When he got to the house no one was home so he left a note and walked back to the coach where Onie was preparing supper.

He made notes while he ate and Onie was putting the finishing touches on week five. When she was finished the two of them looked at the edited product with pictures inserted. A couple of changes were made, captions added to the pictures and it was ready to post. She hit the right key and week five was up.

With week six on the memory stick she had access to the stories and began reading them.

The writer got Family Feud on the tube and called to Onie to take a break. It was almost nine thirty.

Outside the temp was dropping, 57, as the sun dipped behind the hill outside the front door. Wind whipped the awning and shook the coach. Perhaps we would be rocked to sleep tonight.

In the bed that had been warmed by the electric blanket we watched TV until we fell asleep.

A LITTLE EVENT

July 7, 2011-Thursday

The editor was the first one asleep last night and the first one up this morning, but not by much. She had only had one cup of coffee when the writer joined her.

Outside there was bright sunshine even though clouds covered about fifty percent of the sky. Cloud cover last night had kept things warm with the temp only going down to fifty.

Onie had a quick bite for breakfast, dressed and headed out to get Inger and Becky before going on to Zumba. She is doing great with her exercises and seems to be recruiting a few more devotees.

The writer had some Chai tea, checked email, replied, made notes and read the paper before fixing some breakfast and tea.

When Onie got home she checked her email and the news before starting to cook for this evening.

After getting the key for Mike Richardson’s Jeep, from LaVon, the driver retrieved the battery from the basement of the lodge and installed it. When the jeep was running he drove up the hill to Mike’s RV where he opened it up, plugged in the power and water and flushed the anti-freeze from the lines. As he was finishing up our friend, Mike, called and said Delta had lost his reservation and they had re-booked him for tomorrow. We were to pick him up this evening in Kenai. Now we will pick him up tomorrow evening.

The fish count, reds, was finally posted and it was up 300 from yesterday coming in at 4506. Perhaps we can catch a fish today. We hope so as Onie is cooking the last of our salmon, from last year, and there is only one package of smoked salmon left in the freezer. If the fish don’t come in soon we will be reduced to a diet of halibut, haddock, venison, feral hog, free range chicken and sausage. With only those provisions in the freezer we might be able to qualify for WIC or food stamps. After all we probably don’t have anything inspected or approved by our all seeing, all knowing, all protecting government. We sure don’t have any beef, pork or chicken that has been injected with growth hormones, approved of by the benevolent folks at the FDA, so we must be near starvation.

The writer, now facing starvation, went to the river to fish while Onie prepared food for a little get together we are hosting this evening. More than two hundred casts later he was still smelling as fresh as a daisy and a little closer to food stamps.

Placing his fishing gear under the coach he went into the shed and got out the buffer and other stuff to compound and wax the coach. The job is not quite finished but it will be before next Monday unless the writer falls and breaks an arm or a leg. Reds usually start showing up in good numbers sometime after the tenth and that is Sunday.

Monday the writer will be occupied driving to Anchorage to get the Subaru fixed and pick up Kurt. Tuesday and for many following days it should be fish on.

With the coming of the fish we will be busy catching, fileting, cutting, brining, drying, smoking, canning and vacuum packing.

For now we have to complete work on, in and around the coach.

The event, heavy Hors d'œuvres, was to begin at five thirty so around five fifteen the writer began putting up his tools, cleaned up and joined Onie in getting food to the picnic table.

Promptly at five thirty Becky, Jan and Bert showed up soon to be followed by Jay and Kay. Most of us were hungry so we were soon seated around the table, plates in front of us and the finger foods being passed around. Inger came a little later bringing artichoke dip with her. Becky had brought stuffed mushrooms and Kay had contributed some wine. Onie’s afternoon efforts had yielded beer batter halibut and coconut salmon. From our freezer had come smoked salmon and smoked brisket and from our pantry we brought Girl Scout Thin Mint cookies.

Kay, Inger, BuBurtrt and Jay

Jan, Becky, and Onie (don’t think Onie was set for this one)

The temp was dropping as the food was disappearing and by seven it was time to start a campfire. Chairs were arranged around the fire pit and the group moved to be near the heat.

Left to right—the writer, Becky, Jan and Burt, Kay, Jay and Inter

Kay, Jay, and Inter

Becky, Jan, and Bert

Onie

Smoke and heat swirled around the group as it visited talking of old times, old friends and the coming fish. During the visit a couple of blankets were brought out and when they no longer held the cold at bay the group began breaking up. By nine o’clock Jay, Kay, Onie and Pawpaw were busy putting the chairs back on the patio and saying goodnight to all.

In the coach the few left overs were put away for another day and then Onie and Pawpaw got ready for bed where they watched GSN before going to sleep.

HELLO MIKE

July 8, 2011-Friday

Cloud cover has been keeping it warmer at night and this morning at two thirty it was still forty eight.

By the time Onie rose at six the temp had only dropped another degree. She had coffee, played a couple of computer games and worked on week six.

At eight the writer joined her for Chai tea.

While she fixed breakfast he read the paper.

After breakfast she dressed for a day of shopping at yard sales with Becky, Jan, Kay and Dixie. They left at ten.

The writer finished the story for yesterday and began this one before he stopped to shower and dress.

Dressed he took out the trash on the way to continue work on the outside of the coach, compounding and waxing but before he started he took time out to make a couple hundred flips in the river. Nothing eventful happened at the river so he returned to the coach, got out his buffer and related items and began work.

The shoppers got home about five and the driver stopped what he was doing to help Onie with her new found treasures.

With the display of the new treasures, including a waffle iron, over the couple went into the coach for a few snacks and to let the driver get cleaned up a little. When he was cleaned up and they were seated across from each other they discussed plans for the morrow.

Soon Becky appeared with another of Onie’s yard sale acquisitions, a pair of Carhart lined jeans for the writer to use when he halibut fishes. He tried them on and they fit perfectly. Becky had washed them so now they are just waiting for the next halibut trip.

Forty five minutes before Mike was scheduled to arrive at Kenai Airport the duo got in Mike’s Jeep and headed out to meet him. They arrived a few minutes before he did and parked in an area where they could see him exit from the terminal.

He loaded his baggage in the rear, after hugs and hellos were exchange, took the wheel and drove us to St. Elias where were enjoyed a good appetizer. Onie and Pawpaw split a Greek salad and a build your own pizza.

Home at eleven the trio split up with Onie and Pawpaw going to the coach and Mike to his own RV.

Inside the Marlin its occupants quickly made ready for bed and sleep.

It had been a long day.

HALIBUT HAWAIIAN

July 9, 2011-Saturday

We ate inside as it had been cloudy and cold all day as well as having a gusty damp wind blowing.

Our supper guests, Mike, Becky, Jan and Burt all arrived at five thirty on the spot. Inside they were seated and the conversation began. Mike regaled the little party with his telling of the trials and tribulations accompanying his airline reservation with Delta and the delayed trip that took place yesterday.

When an hour had passed Onie had folks be seated and she served up a wonderful salad followed by halibut Hawaiian and roasted broccoli followed by chocolate mousse topped with whipped cream and a fresh cherry. Following the mousse some folks had a vanilla coffee.

With everyone well fed and relaxed the group settled in for a little more talk before our guests left around nine thirty.

Onie and the writer cleaned at cleaning up the kitchen before retiring at ten thirty.

The day had started when Onie rose at five and started working on week six, coffee in hand.

The writer joined her at six thirty.

Outside it was cloudy and cold.

We had our breakfast she headed off to do some quick shopping at Freddies.

The writer read the paper, checked his email and read some e-news, got a Master Card bill via the web and scheduled a payment then showered and got dressed.

Trash went out the front door, in fact it is our only door, with the writer.

Onie met him as she was coming in. Her trip had been quick and once her purchases were inside she and started preparing for tonight.

A cry went up from the fishing grate announcing that Daniel, a little boy in camp, had caught the first red of the season at Castaway. The hue and cry caused quite a stir and the grate quickly filled with wannabe catchers. Even though the wannabes stayed for over an hour there were no more caught.

The driver was outside waxing the last half of the coach on the driver’s side. All the excitement caught his ear and he stopped to make 100 casts before he went back to waxing. Onie came out to help with last part of the waxing on the upper part which saved the driver many trips up and down the ladder.

They both went inside at five.

Mike called to see what time supper was to be. We told him five thirty.

LADDER GO HOME

July 10, 2011-Sunday

Onie was up at 7:45.

It was another cloudy cool day.

She sat down to work on week six with her coffee. Later she checked her email.

At eight thirty the writer joined her and got a cup of Chai tea and sat down to make notes of yesterday and finish the story from Friday.

A blueberry scone each and chai tea and coffee made for breakfast.

Showers were taken and we got ready for church and left the coach at ten forty.

In church we took our usual seats, third row from the front. Becky, Burt and Jan soon were seated next to us.

After church we were back home at twelve fifteen and had biscuits, sausage, figs, tea and coffee. We labored over the Sunday crossword and only paused a bit when Kurt called about our meeting up tomorrow in Anchorage.

The last time scissors or barber shears had touched the hair of the writer had been a week before we left Coldspring. His hair was riding down over his collar and ears. It was time for a haircut. Becky cuts Burt’s hair and it looks good so the writer volunteered Becky to cut his. He went up to the house at 2:20. He was back down at 4 when he took the trash out, crushed some cans, made 200 casts and caught nothing, not even the bottom.

Chelsea had caught a red earlier and once again the grate was full of wannabe catchers.

Onie picked up Becky at four thirty and they were off to Zumba.

Kurt called again to tell the writer his flight, tomorrow, leaves Minneapolis around two. Bill Hager called with an update from the home front.

Outside it was cooling off, 65, and windy.

The writer made a few notes, checked his email and then went out to polish the rear of the coach. He was done at 6:40. The ladder he had borrowed from Kurt can go home.

Inside he made notes and wrote.

Onie got home a little after seven.

The writer met Onie at the door. After she put her exercise things in the coach the pair went to the grate for some fishing time. They enjoyed half an hour on the grate before returning to the coach, with clean hands.

After supper, at 8, the writer went to bed as he had an early call for in the morning. Onie joined him at 8:30.

Rain began falling.